Magical Beginnings
by Blood Brandy
Summary: A set of first chapters for Harry Potter Stories. The first steps of many different journeys,some inspired by others, some of my own design. If enough people like a certain one, I may continue it.
1. Welcome to my Mind

_**Magical Beginnings**_

The scene is within a well decorated study, the walls are lined with books and a few mounted bladed weapons. The shelves, walls and carpets all a dark red, we find our kind host sitting in front of a roaring fire, a rather thin young man with brown hair tied back, a short red beard and a pair of oval glasses, in crimson pajamas, black fingerless gloves, black slippers and a red plaid bathrobe, reading a sizable book in a comfy red recliner.

"Welcome, my readers, to a small part of my mind, for this announcement," Blood Brandy motions towards a partially empty shelf, "I have begun this, my Magical Beginnings section, which will be made up various first chapters of various stories I start within a Harry Potter universe, some are my first takes on a couple of challenges I have read, others are ones that, as far as I know, are original to me and can be considered my own challenges to my fellow writers. I may someday in the future continue these stories, if the inspiration so strikes me, but this shall serve as a sort of pensieve for my Harry potter stories to help me clear or organize some of the clutter here in my head. If any of my fellow writers do begin one of my 'challenges' I simply ask that you notify me and I shall post your name and your stories name at the end of my corresponding chapter."

"To begin, though, I would like to say a few things, first is pertaining to one Ronald B. Weasley, I shall admit that in some times he was slightly helpful, but I, personally, do not care for the fellow, I do not suffer 'fair weather friends' nor do I easily suffer those who believe all worthwhile things in life should be easy, I may be lazy myself, but I know such things are worthwhile because you have truly worked for them. And I do not believe it was a wise bit of writing on the part of Madam Rowling to place him in a marriage with Miss Granger, while the two may be good friends, I believe that he is one of the worse choices for her spouse. I ask for any of my challenges, that this coupling not be made, any other involvement of Ron is acceptable, outside of an actual coupling with Harry himself, I hold no ill will towards homosexuals, and there are a few characters in the series I honestly have trouble seeing any other way, but Harry and Ronald are not such people."

"Speaking of Mr. Potter's coupling, I would like to say that, while I may in a few future instances, vilify Ginevra Weasley, I hold her no ill will either, but as I see it, there are girls who would be better suited for Harry, Hermione, for instance. The two have been through a lot together, more than he had been through with Ronald, and they are very close in the books, so much so, in fact, that Steve Cloves, the screenwriter for many of the movies, believed that the two could have ended with them together. That is not to say that Ms. Granger is perfect for Mr. Potter, or that there are not others who could be as good a match, such as one Luna Lovegood. Although Luna met Harry late in the series, the two shared a connection of two who had suffered similar pains, the loss of loved ones, persecution from those who are supposed to help them, lonely childhoods, bloodied hearts can heal each other. And most other females, in my opinion, have little enough character development that they could be written into the position as a girlfriend or spouse."

"And my final point in this little tirade of mine is Albus Dumbledore. To me there are two ends of the Dumbledore spectrum, and they are, strangely enough, to me best represented by the two actors who portrayed him. On one end is Richard Harris, who played the headmaster in the first two movies, this man seemed to just bleed the aura of a grandfather, a good man who, despite his learned years, has made mistakes and at times, as many aged people do, thought he knew what was best and believed things had not changed substantially since his own younger years. On the other end of the spectrum is Michael Gambon, I am not sure why, but there is just something about the way this man appears both in costume and more so in day to day life, that raises alarms in my head, he seems to look the part of the shadowed manipulator, the turncoat puppeteer, who sits, biding his time until he takes power. There can be grey areas on this, but these are the extremes to me."

Mr. Brandy lays the book in his hand on an end table and picks up a three ring binder, "I thank you for listening to this little speech of mine, but now I must be off to search the halls of my mind for the last few pages of this before I can show it to you. Also, within the next few months I will probably begin something else like this for Naruto stories, or other series I like, such as Artemis Fowl. Until then, my readers," a bookcase opens, allowing his exit, "Laters."


	2. The Death and Life of Harry Potter

**You find yourself watching a piece of paper fluttering on the breeze in a room that seemed to have been designed by M.C. Escher. You follow the paper up what seems to be a ramp of interwoven tree roots and into a stone walled hallway lined with torches. The paper is snatched out of the air.**

"**Hello Again, reader." Brandy says as he places the page in his binder, "It seems this one is complete, this way please." He leads you to a section of wall and pulls down a torch, three bricks on the wall light up and flash 7's before the floor beneath you disappears. After a short tunnel ride you find yourself in the study, Bloody Brandy sitting in a chair across from yours, he waves a hand over the cover of the binder before handing to you, "I hope you like it, and the name may change someday."**

**You look at the binder cover, which reads in golden letters.**

_**The Death and Life of Harry Potter**_

****

**Chapter One- The Office of Souls, Death and the Hereafter**

Harry Potter was having a bad day.

No, scratch that, he was having a bad year.

Well, to be frank, every year was pretty bad for him in one way or another, but this past year had been especially bad.

First, there was the whole debacle at the World cup, death eater attacks and Harry being accused of casting the Dark Mark, never mind the fact that until that moment he didn't even know what it was, let alone how to cast it.

Then, he gets to school and learns of the upcoming tournament. At first he was happy at the prospect of having a relatively normal year with someone else in the spotlight… as if fate would be that good to him. All hopes of a normal year came crashing down around his ears with two words from the headmaster's mouth, _"Harry Potter."_

Once in the meeting room with the other champions and their headmasters, Harry practically begged Dumbledore to tell him there was some way that he wouldn't have to enter, his gut telling him something bad would come from his participation, only to be disappointed when told the opposite. He slumped in defeat into a chair, and a reassuring hand was placed on his shoulder, one he found to belong to Cedric, who said he believed that Harry hadn't entered himself, Fleur Delacour looked caught between belief and disbelief, but Viktor Krum just stared at the younger seeker, saying nothing.

Harry headed back towards his tower, met by his friend Hermione in the halls, who gave him a bone crushing hug, telling him she believed him and was behind him all the way. Harry was grateful for that, especially when he got back to the common room, where he found almost everyone celebrating Harry's defeat of the age line, no one even bothering to believe he didn't, and the worst was Ron, who pretty much cut ties with him when Harry wouldn't reveal how he got his name in.

Most of November passed, and almost half the school was against him, the Slytherins mostly because he was Harry Potter and the Ravenclaws because they were mad that he seemed to outsmart even Dumbledore to get in the tournament, but he still had the support of Gryffindor and, surprisingly, Hufflepuff. It seemed that Cedric told them he didn't believe Harry put his name in, and convinced the rest of his house of the same. He and Cedric became friends, and once Harry learned of the dragons, they both knew.

Another notable occurrence of November was another new friend. Harry had been wandering the halls late one afternoon, reluctant to return to his common room and face Ron, when he had heard a whimpering cry.

**Terrenus Ostendo Sum**

Harry followed the sound to a closet, he could hear a soft voice inside, and muffled weeping. With bad memories surfacing, Harry tried to open the door, and when that failed he tried the _Alohamora_ charm, and when that failed, he got desperate and stepped back from the door, pointing his wand at the hinges, he called out the spell he had been practicing, "_Accio _Door!"

He promptly jumped out of the way as the door, and part of the wall, flew past him. As the dust settled, he looked in the closet and found a girl about Ginny's age, with long, dirty-blonde hair, and rather large, grey eyes filled with fear. She backed up against the wall a little as Harry slowly approached after the extreme show of force.

"Are you okay?" he asked, holding out a hand, at which the girl flinched, her system seemed to have had enough, and she fainted. Completely forgetting magic, Harry lifted her and rushed to the hospital wing.

Madame Pomfrey gave the girl a once over and said she was fine, but it would be best if she were allowed to rest. Harry stayed with the girl, and later after a short explanation, so did Hermione, until she woke up. The girl looked confusedly at the two watching over her.

Harry was the first to break the silence, "Are you okay?"

The looked at him silently for a moment before answering, "Why did you help me?"

Harry looked sheepishly at Hermione before answering, "Let's just say I have had some bad experiences with cupboards too. I'm Harry, Harry Potter," he said, holding out his hand.

Hermione looked at her friend for a moment, deciding she would learn about these 'bad experiences' and held her own hand to the other girl, "And I'm Hermione Granger, pleased to meet you."

The blonde girl eyed them a moment before tentatively taking the offered hands, "I'm Luna Lovegood."

**Terrenus Reverto **

Luna had quickly become a close friend to the pair, and filled the missing space in the trio. Harry found the light hearted and dreamy way she went about her ways amusing, and soon she was as good at cheering him up as Hermione was. Hermione constantly played the straight man for Luna, and despite their differences in belief, the girls still got along well, instead of the angry arguments she had had with the former third, Luna provided her with friendly, yet heated debates and, in spite of her many unique beliefs, the Ravenclaw would almost always have a carefully balanced argument for her side, but was willing to back down if Hermione's explanation was more logical.

So when Ron had tried to apologize after Harry's encounter with the dragon, he found there was no longer a place for him, and his chances were further damaged when he asked why they would rather hang out with a 'Loony'. Before he could take any satisfaction in said girls drooping expression, he was nailed with a pair of hexes from his two former friends, thereby ending the redhead's chances at reconciliation.

Following the first task, the three of them quickly solved the clue in the egg after learning that Luna knew mermish, and they spent a good amount of their free time looking up ways to stay underwater.

Not long after the first task, Harry arrived to breakfast and found Luna was nowhere in sight. A quick check of the Marauders' Map showed she was once again in a closet; Harry rushed to get professors Flitwick and McGonagall. The teachers freed the girl, who was quickly caught in a hug from her two friends, who were trying to calm her claustrophobia. After she calmed down, they convinced her to tell the professors who had been tormenting her, which made up a large list of Ravenclaw girls, including one Cho Chang, and a smaller list of boys. The following day saw a few suspensions and a large number of detentions issued, with Filch, Snape and many other teachers wracking their brains to come up with tasks for the offenders. However, of all those punished, only Cho stepped forward to apologize after a stern talk with her boyfriend, Cedric.

When the Yule Ball was announced, the first to come to mind was Hermione. Harry spent a couple weeks trying to get himself together enough to ask her, always fidgeting and chickening out at the last second. By the time he finally managed to stammer out the question, she said she had already been asked by someone. When her friend seemed downcast, she said she would save a few dances for him. He ended up going with his other friend, Luna.

When the ball came and he met her outside the Ravenclaw common room, he had to admit she was beautiful, her dress seemed to shimmer and change colors like an aurora, her hair in a smooth braid, and her turnip earrings and cork necklace forgone for a pair of sapphire earrings and a simple pendant, surprisingly adorned with a stag. When he asked about it, she just said she had seen the pendant the previous summer, and something about it gave her hope.

When they got to the Great Hall, Harry got another pleasant surprise when he saw Hermione. She certainly looked as beautiful as Luna in her dress, although Harry thought she would have looked better if she had left her hair normal instead of slicking it down, but she still looked wonderful. He wasn't so pleased about her date though, he wasn't afraid she would betray him, like Ron yelled later on, but he got a fearful weight in his stomach when he looked at Krum. Aside from that, the ball started swimmingly well. Harry had a good number of dances with Luna, and a few with Hermione.

Had he known those would be some of his last happy moments of the school year, he would have seen if Colin had snuck in and asked for a picture.

After a while he finished a dance with Luna, and noticed that Krum and Hermione weren't in sight. Luna, who could see Harry's anxiety, pointed out Krum re-entering the hall alone from the gardens before moving to speak to some other Bulgarian, laughing with a smug look on his face. Harry's blood ran cold as he looked to Luna, only to find her already dragging him outside. After searching for a bit, they found their friend.

And they almost wished they hadn't.

Hermione was huddled in a bush with her dress torn, bruises appearing on her face and arms, blood coming out of several small cuts and scratches, crying her eyes out. Harry could see a torn pair of knickers nearby and put two and two together, and he was pissed. He and Luna quickly led their friend to Madame Pomfrey, who led her to the infirmary. Harry saw many of her teachers look downcast, and searched for the perpetrator, spotting him walking out the door, laughing with his friends, and Harry was PISSED!

**Terrenus Ostendo Sum**

"_ACCIO _BASTARD!" Harry cried, his voice carrying surprisingly well and silencing the whole room. Krum was lifted off his feet and skidded across the floor, stopping in front of the angry Potter, who turned to his Headmaster and head of house, "Are you going to do anything about this!?"

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head, "Harry, I'm afraid he has Diplomatic Immunity as a champion in a foreign country, we can't do anything?"

Harry saw Krum climb to his feet, brushing himself off with a smug look, "She vas good, she should be thankful her first was a star."

Harry glared at the older seeker, as did many others in the room who had put things together, including the other two champions. Harry did the first thing to come to mind.

"Viktor Krum, I, Harry James Potter, challenge you to a duel of honor, here and now. Do you accept, or are you a coward?"

Krum glared at him, "I haff no need to duel a whining child…"

He was cut off by Harry, "So you are a coward, attacking younger girls, and running and hiding from someone three years your junior!"

"Watch vat you say Potter!"

"Why!?" Harry yelled, "Why should I beware a cowardly little cocksucker like you!?" Harry was on a roll, remembering the insults he had heard Dudley use so often, "What do I have to fear from a limp-pricked donkey-fucker like you!? That's probably why you attack young girls, thinking maybe they'll feel something from the little jellybean-"

"I ACCEPT!" Krum roared, his anger rising.

Harry calmly turned to his charms professor, "Professor Flitwick, as a former dueling champion, would you please be the referee of this duel?"

The diminutive teachers expression was set in stone, and he nodded, harry turned to Luna, "Please, go to Hermione, Luna, I'll be there once I'm finished with the trash."

Luna hesitated, "Harry-"

"Luna, please…"

The blonde waited a moment and nodded, before she hugged him for a moment and whispered in his ear, "You'll win, the wrackspurts are after him as well, they hate such acts." She quickly left as Dumbledore moved towards his student, but before he could say anything, Krum put a new nail in his coffin.

"Move it Potter, Herm-own-ninny might want a repeat soon."

Harry's back was to the students, but they could see him tense at that. "Harry, please reconsider this-" Dumbledore began.

"Shut it, headmaster!" The students heard Harry growl as he turned around, the other students unconsciously taking a step back.

Draco Malfoy watched this all closely, as did his bookends and his date, they had seen Potter angry many times in the past, and many times they had been the ones to anger him, but what they saw now made them reconsider ever doing so again. Because, as he turned, Harry disappeared, and in his place stood Harry Potter, the one who faced down one of the most feared dark lords in centuries multiple times, and won each time, there stood the young man who had driven off scores of dementors with a single spell, who had out flown a dragon, who had felled a basilisk. He looked like a force of nature; his eyes seemed to glow with anger, and his wand, held tightly in his hand, seemed to be cycling through colors at the tip, as if trying to decide which curse or hex to use.

Fillius gave them that rules of the duel, to end when disarmed, and no unforgivable curses. The two champions stared each other down for a few moments, before Krum let loose a venomous purple curse towards Potter, and saw something that filled him with fear.

Harry, without taking his glare of the one who had hurt _HIS_ Hermione, listened to his instincts, and reached up and caught the curse in his bare hand. The purple light cackled there for a moment before Harry crushed it, throwing sparks to the floor. He then wordlessly waved his wand in a wide arch, leaving a trail of light behind it for a moment before the arch released six separate spells, which curved, homing in on their target. Seeing this, Krum threw up a shield spell, but the first spell, a blasting charm, punched right through the shield before contacting his face, knocking his teeth out and tearing his nose off his face and into pieces. The other spells met even less resistance, one, a Reductor curse, completely destroyed the three things that made him a man, and the other four, all of them Severing charms, effectively disarmed Krum, at the shoulder, and also removed his legs at the knees.

All this happened in the span of several seconds, and the observers where so shocked that they said nothing as Harry cast an _Incendio_ spell, burning the severed parts to ash and cauterizing the bleeding stumps. No one moved until Harry turned to Flitwick and broke the silence with a cold, humorless voice.

"Professor, I don't think I can disarm him any more than I already have."

Flitwick nervously announced the end of the duel and Harry made his way out of the hall. One brave, or stupid, Durmstrang boy stepped forward to try and curse harry from behind, until he was hit in the chest with a stunner, courtesy of Fleur. Harry looked to his helper, who nodded sadly.

"Go to 'er, 'Arry, your friend needs you."

**Terrenus Reverto**

Hermione had been a wreck after that; she shied away from physical contact, and took a while to even get comfortable with her two friends; she couldn't even be around groups of people, which kept her out of classes, so she ended up returning home to try and get help from her mother and father. Harry, Luna and Professor McGonagall, were allowed to visit her in their free time, but with McGonagall's busy schedule, they weren't able to much more than just weekends. It wasn't enough.

The day after the second task, in which Harry pulled both Luna and the young Gabrielle Delacour from the lake, they received the news. Hermione Granger had taken her own life.

When he heard, Harry broke down and locked himself in a classroom; nobody was able to get close to him, save Luna. The funeral was, with little doubt, the hardest thing he'd ever done. He couldn't speak or even bring himself to look at Hermione's parents. He moved through the service like a zombie, Luna at his side, and near the end, placed three things in the coffin, her Vinewood wand, her copy of "_Hogwarts, A History_", and a new copy of Shakespeare's "_The Winter's Tale_", with a small note written inside the cover.

Hermione

I'm sorry, I loved you, but I failed you

The following weeks, Harry spoke very little to anybody, even Luna, he ate less than he should, and he seemed to ghost around the castle. After a while, Luna enlisted the help of a ghost, Myrtle, who was heartbroken to see Harry in such a state. The two Ravenclaws cornered and forced him to sit down and talk through his pain. Harry spent an hour sobbing with his head on Luna's shoulder while a cold, reassuring hand rubbed his back, sometimes phasing into his body.

Harry was a bit closer to normal after that, but the others knew he wouldn't be the same, the twins, Ginny, Neville, Cedric, and even Fleur tried to cheer him up, as well as a number of well wishers after Rita Skeeter's latest article, and for once it seemed even she saw a line she shouldn't cross.

**Terrenus Ostendo Sum**

**The Heartache of Harry Potter**

_A boy like no other- who suffers like no other, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen year old Harry Potter thought he had found steady solace in the arms of his loyal female friend, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Many students admit that the two were rarely seen outside of each other's company since young Harry's valiant battle to save her life from a troll in their first year."She was very intelligent," says Mandy Brocklehurst, an attractive Ravenclaw of the same year, "Most of us wondered how she was sorted into Gryffindor."_

_Indeed, many other students say the young Miss Granger was never far from Harry's adventures, and that she had been helping him prepare, along with a Ravenclaw friend by the name of Luna Lovegood, for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Harry had even asked her to attend the Yule Ball with him, only to find she had been asked a short time earlier by someone else. Choosing to honor the first commitment, she told him she would still be willing to share a few dances with him. Although saddened, Harry accepted, and instead attended with his other close female friend, Luna, not knowing that he would shortly be suffering yet another personal loss._

_Miss Granger had attended with professional seeker and Durmstrang champion, Viktor Krum, and it seemed all seemed to go swimmingly for all at the ball, until a couple hours past. Miss granger was sexually assaulted and raped by her date, and left in the garden outside. When he found his friend in that state, Harry, in a rage, saw her to the infirmary before finding Mr. Krum in the ballroom and challenging the criminal to a duel, after being told, by Albus Dumbledore, that the Bulgarian held diplomatic immunity as a visiting champion. In one of, if not the, most one-sided duels this reporter has ever seen, Mr. Krum only fired one hex, which Harry caught and crushed in his bare hand, with no injury. Then with a single wave of his wand, Mr. Potter left his opponent unable to smell, walk, reproduce, or even feed himself ever again, let alone play Quidditch._

_Ms. Granger spent the rest of her winter break recovering in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing, but was still mentally unprepared to return to class, and was returned home to her family, getting visits weekly from her friends, Ms. Lovegood and Mr. Potter, as well as her head of house, Professor Minerva McGonagall._

_Unfortunately, the trauma proved too much for the bright, up and coming witch. The day after his heroics in the second task (see article by Isadore Freleng, re-posted on page 3) Harry received news that his longtime friend and confidante had committed suicide. A simple muggle service was held, the only magical presence being Potter, Lovegood and McGonagall._

_This reporter asks what the actions of one cruel teenager may have cost us by causing the world to lose such an intelligent witch with such a bright future. In the mean time, Harry Potter's well wishers hope that his heart hasn't been forever lost to the world, and wish that his friends will help him through his loss._

_*_

_*_

_R.I.P._

_Hermione Jean Granger_

_September 19, 1979-Febuary 24, 1995_

_The Heart of our Savior_

**Terrenus Reverto**

Harry, although wondering how Skeeter had gotten some of her information, was thankful that she had told the truth and had honored Hermione's memory. Harry received several condolence letters in the following weeks, not that he opened most of them.

Through March and April, his friends, especially Luna and Myrtle, helped Harry get back on his feet, he even managed a small smile after talking with Luna's father over Easter Holiday, Harry had been invited and, while the man was a bit more off kilter than his daughter, Xeno knew when to be serious, and knew what it felt like to lose someone close to him.

Harry returned to school a fair bit better than when he left, and as the next couple weeks passed, he seemed to get as close to normal as he was going to get, then, two weeks before the third task, all that progress was lost, and Harry sank deeper than any could pull him back from.

**Terrenus Ostendo Sum**

**A Hero's Shattered Heart**

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Another heavy blow has been dealt to the already bloodied heart of Tri-Wizard Champion, Harry Potter._

_Luna Lovegood, only daughter of __Xenophilius Lovegood and the late Serena Lovegood, first started attending Hogwarts in the fall in 1992, during the incident concerning the legendary Chamber of Secrets, but that was not the problem the girl had._

_After being sorted into Ravenclaw, Luna began to be bullied by others in her house for her belief in the whimsical creatures portrayed in her father's magazine, The Quibbler. She'd have her possessions stolen, her name insulted and, once her classmates found she suffered from claustrophobia, she would be locked in closets for hours without her wand._

_This was all the poor girl had to look forward to until this past November, when she was rescued from a closet by none other than Harry Potter. She had become fast friends with him and his possible love interest, Hermione Granger. In early December, she was once again locked away by one of her classmates, and once again saved by Harry, this time accompanied by the head of Ravenclaw house and the Deputy Headmistress. The following days saw many of that house given heavy detentions, and some were suspended, among those suspended was Marietta Edgecombe, daughter of Floo Network Authority Official Maureen Edgecombe._

_Marietta returned to school after Easter holidays with thoughts of revenge. A few days ago, she cornered Ms. Lovegood alone and put her in a Full Body Bind and levitated the younger girl into a secluded closet and locked the door, but not before pouring a purgative draught down her throat. What Ms. Edgecombe didn't think of, was that she left Luna lay, still under the body bind and, most importantly, unable to even turn her head. Harry soon found Luna again, but he was too late to rescue his friend again, despite the use of muggle CPR (See a short description by St. Mungo's Healer Faust on page 6) and soon after the aid of school healer Poppy Pomfrey, Luna Lovegood passed away._

_Ms. Edgecombe was arrested for murder once the purging draught was traced back to her. She had gotten it from Madame Pomfrey by claiming she had accidentally swallowed the key to her school trunk. She was tried and sentenced to twenty five years in the mid-level security wing of Azkaban, despite many of the public calling for her to receive the Kiss._

_Harry Potter has been unavailable for comment, but this reporter has found that, after the funeral for Ms. Lovegood (she was placed near her friend, Hermione Granger), he has sealed himself in an empty classroom in a mostly unused section of the castle, only allowing in a house-elf, who brings him food, and the ghost of Myrtle Frisbee (died June 13, 1943)._

_When asked for comment, the elf, identified by the name Dobby, refused, but the ghost of Ms. Frisbee yelled, "HAVEN'T YOU PEOPLE HURT HIM ENOUGH!"_

_It seems that the happenings of the past year may have proven too much for even the great Harry Potter. One can only hope that we can save the one who saved us._

**Terrenus Reverto**

Harry didn't leave the room until the day of the final task. With a silent Myrtle hovering nearby, Harry washed and prepared himself, never saying a word, even to the Weasley family when they came to show their support, even Dumbledore, who before had believed Harry to be strong enough to get through this, began to worry. At breakfast, Harry was joined by Hedwig, who stayed on his shoulder to show her support to her human.

Later, the three remaining Champions stood at the entrance to the maze. Harry, being in first place, entered ahead of Cedric, who would then go in before Fleur, who was in last. The older champions watch with worry as Harry walked, quiet as death, into the maze.

A few hours and a flash of green later, it was all over.

)()()()()()()(

Harry's vision was blurred as he came to. Once he could see clearly, he saw he was in what seemed to be a normal muggle waiting room, a blond woman at the desk behind the window typing away on a computer. He looked down at the coffee table in front of him, there was a copy of the Daily Prophet, what got his attention, thought were the two pictures, one of Peter Pettigrew, and the other was of Harry himself, lying as motionless as a normal photo. He unfolded the paper to read:

**The Death of the Broken Hero**

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Yesterday marked the final task of the Tri-wizard Tournament, and it also marked the end of Harry Potter's life. The goal of the third task was to reach the center of a maze, where the Tri-Wizard cup lay for a champion to claim._

"_Harry wanted me to take it," confessed Cedric Diggory, the other Hogwarts Champion, "He said he didn't want to win. I managed to convince him that we should both win. A complete Hogwarts win."_

_What neither champion knew was that for the entire year, Bartimus Crouch Jr., thought to have died in Azkaban years ago, had been posing as former auror, Alastor Moody by means of the Polyjuice Potion. Crouch had escaped prison with the help of his father, and days ago configured the trophy into a portkey, which took both boys away to the graveyard of Little Hangleton._

"_We landed and I suggested we get out our wands, I heard someone say 'kill the spare' before Harry pushed me to the side, he took the killing curse head on." Diggory struggled continue, "I fired a stunner at whoever it was, then a severing charm at a snake that was coming after me. I grabbed Harry and the cup, and we were back."_

_Ministry Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones, as well as a few Aurors, traced the portkey to the graveyard, where they found the stunned form of Peter Pettigrew, who was soon questioned under Veratiserum, although no sign of the snake mentioned by Diggory._

_Under the potion, Pettigrew revealed that it had been him who had revealed the location of the Potter Family to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and also him who had killed the thirteen muggles, before going into hiding in his animagus form (which, fittingly, is a rat). Madame Bones gave the statement that if he is willing to turn himself in, Sirius Black, now revealed to be the godfather of Harry Potter, will be cleared of all charges._

_But one wonders if he will return to the news of his godson's death. _

"_Harry died as he lived," says Albus Dumbledore, "A noble young man."_

_One person disagrees. Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons Champion and a quarter Veela, said, "I think it was just an opportunity for him, yes it was noble, but I think he more saw the chance to see his friends again. I could tell," Ms. Delacour continued with tears in her eyes, "even if he didn't realize it at the time, he loved the both of them more than anything. I think he wanted to be with them."_

_Myrtle Frisbee, the only person to speak with Harry since the death of Luna Lovegood, could not be found for a comment._

_We can only hope wherever he has gone, the Boy-Who-Lived is finally with those he has loved and lost._

_A service will be held later today before Harry's body will be laid to rest between his two friends._

Harry looked at the article for a moment, before looking around the room. Everything seemed to be normal enough; it certainly wasn't what he expected it to be. He stood and walked to the only other person in sight. As he approached, he noticed two things; first, above the desk was a sign, which said in an elegant type:

_**Office of Souls, Death, and the Hereafter**_

The second thing he noticed was the woman's nameplate on her desk: Georgia Lass. She seemed to be in her early twenties.

"Um…Excuse me?" Harry said, unsure of what she might be.

"Just a minute," she said, she sounded American, not taking her eyes of the screen. After a couple minutes, she finished typing and faced Harry, her hands still on the keyboard, "Name?"

"Uh, Harry, Harry Potter."

"Middle name too, please."

"Oh, sorry, it's James, after my father."

"Right," Georgia typed that into the computer, "Date of birth?"

"July 31st, 1980." Harry replied.

"Oookay," she entered that as well, "Date of Death?"

Harry looked blank for a moment, "So, I really am dead?"

"Oh, yeah," Georgia looked remorseful, "Sorry, I know it can be a bit hard to accept at first."

"No, it's fine," Harry assured her, "It's just…"

"Hearing it from someone else?" Harry nodded, "Well, I'll tell you, your death couldn't be worse than mine."

"You were alive?" Harry asked, looking surprised.

"Yeah, I know, but a lot of us who work in death were alive at one point." The young woman sighed, "So, do you know when you died?"

"June 24th, 1995," Harry said, waiting a moment before asking, "So…how did you die?"

She sighed again, "Don't laugh, but I got nailed by a toilet seat that fell from a Russian space station." She looked at him for a moment, "Go ahead, say it, it was a crappy way to go," he didn't even smirk, "Man, were you a suicide or something? Usually people at least smile at that." She saw him flinch at the mention of suicide, "How did you die?"

"I moved in front of a curse that was aimed at someone else, a killing curse," Harry looked around a minute before asking, "Will I be able to see my friends soon?"

Georgia looked sorry for a second, "Sorry, kid, but if you're here, then there was some sort of complication with your death." She typed something else in.

"So I can't see them?"

She shrugged, "I don't know, I just got promoted to this job. Someone will be here in a soon to take you to your case worker."

As if on cue, the door opened and a middle aged, slightly balding man came in. "Hey, Peanut," he greeted Georgia before facing the young man, "Harry?" he nodded, "Come with me please."

Immediately after entering the door, Harry knew this wasn't some prank, first he saw a waist high skeleton in a black robe, arguing with a twelve foot tall, purple skinned, white haired creature with horns on its head in white robes, arguing loudly next to a water cooler, Harry could only catch the words 'fox' 'tail' 'and 'paid vacation days'. As they worked their way through a cubicle maze, he saw a blue haired woman fly over them, riding side-saddle on what seemed to be a boat oar. After a while, they stopped and entered an office door, inside the office was a middle aged woman with shoulder length, silver hair, tan skin, and two different colored eyes, one blue and one black, dressed in a pinstriped suit and skirt. She seemed so into her paperwork that she didn't notice the others enter.

The man spoke up, "Morana, one of your cases is here."

"Yes, yes, thanks Rube," she said, not really paying attention as she waved him off, the newly named Rube left, closing the door behind him. After a few minutes she finally looked up, when she saw who it was, she stared for a few minutes, slowly turning red before yelling, "HARRY JAMES POTTER, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING BACK HERE!?"

"Back here?" Harry asked, surprised as hell, but he was ignored.

"YOU HAD TO DIE AGAIN? I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! YOU'RE HERE ALMOST TWO CENTURIES EARLY AGAIN!" Morana was picking up steam, "WE GAVE YOU A DESTINY, I SENT YOU BACK, READY TO KICK ASS, YOUNEEDED A REASON TO FIGHT, WHAT MORE REASON DO YOU NEED THAN TWO FUCKING SOULMATES, SO SOME GRANGER GIRL AND A BLOND CHICK AREN'T A GOOD ENOUGH REASON!?" Her rant stopped in its tracks when she saw his eyes fill with tears.

"Hermione and Luna were my soul mates?"

"Yes," Morana said in a strained voice, "I told you this last time, remember? You fought Riddle, died at seventeen; we sent you back to first year with those memories, any of this ringing a bell?" Harry shook his head and Morana sighed, reaching into her desk and putting a three inch thick file on the desk, "Every time you die before you're supposed to, it's a count against me, now I know the first three times can be blamed on that so called uncle and cousin of yours, but how could you forget meeting death? Or leave your soul mates?" Harry sobbed something that made her freeze, "Beg your pardon?"

"They already died!" Harry all but yelled, getting to his feet, tears flowing, "I don't know about all this death, and destiny, and soul mate and sending back shite, but they died and I missed them more than anything! I felt empty and I-I just wanted to see them again! Cedric had a reason to live, he had family, he had Cho, and I was alone, so I blocked that curse! I just wanted it to end!"

Morana slumped back in her chair, with a blank look on her face and her anger diffused. It was a little while before she spoke, "Harry, this is about the seventh time you've died," Harry looked up in surprise as she continued, "The first three, as I said, can be laid at the feet of your so called 'uncle' and 'cousin'. The first time your uncle shook you way too hard when you were crying as a baby and snapped your neck. The second time was that time when you where five and he took your aunt and cousin on vacation, leaving you home alone, originally he left you locked in your cupboard and you starved. The third time, your cousin tripped you down the stairs; you landed on your head and snapped your neck." She took a breath and opened the folder, "Like I said, those ones were in no way your fault, they can be blamed on your family and Dumbledore for leaving you there and never checking in, the presumptuous, cocky old bastard." She added under breath, Harry looked like he was going to say something, but she beat him to it, "Don't get me wrong, he is on the side of good, but he always thinks he's right, and that he knows best, so his fuck-ups are usually on a much grander scale than normal people, and I wouldn't be surprised if he had something to do with why you don't remember. Anyway, your fourth death was after you entered Hogwarts, and was because of your stupidity and your nobility. Instead of jumping on the trolls head, which was still pretty stupid by the way, you moved between it and the girl, she still got away, but you ended up as a very fine paste on the floor. Amazingly, you didn't get killed by that basilisk, your third death was because you didn't hang on well enough when you first went on that little hippogriff joyride, you ended up as a splat on the ground, but somehow still alive, at least until the dementors found you."

Morana visibly shivered, "I fucking hate those things," she looked back to the file, "after that, you managed to make it to the age of seventeen, and died fighting Riddle. You got here, we had a very similar conversation to this one, and we had to handle things differently than normal. Normally, you die before your time, we send you back just far enough to evade your death, with a compulsion on the right people to do things just differently enough to stay alive, and that's why on your third death, you landed on your side and broke your arm, instead of your neck. But last time it was getting bad, Dumbledore held back information to 'help preserve your innocence'," you could taste the sarcasm in her voice, "and the world at large paid for it. So last time we made an agreement, I would get you sent back six years with your seventeen year old mind, you would save the day, you would get your happy ending, and I would no longer be a bigger joke in the office than that pint-size prick, Greg. So, what the hell happened?"

Harry took a moment to settle himself before answering, "I told you, as far as I know, this is the first time I've met you, I don't remember fighting Voldemort himself to the death, I don't remember going back in time or any of that. But I don't know how I could have forgotten." He stopped when his case worker stood and walked around her desk, stopping in front of him and staring into his eyes.

After a moment she headed back to her computer muttering, "Meddling, fussing old bastard." She spent a few moments typing before facing her charge again, "It seems Dumbledore is a bigger pain in our collective ass than I thought. Apparently, shortly after you returned, you tried to talk with him about all of this, Dumbledore, thinking it necessary, blocked out those memories."

"Why would he do that?"

"Because he assumed he knew all that was needed to make that decision and that he knew best, he thought the time travel part was the same as wizarding time travel, he thought you might screw something up and erase yourself, or cause a paradox." A tone came from her computer and she read something before typing something in, "There are a few people here to see you, " she said as she headed to the door, "I need to check something out in the time office and I'll be back," she stepped out, "You can see him, I'll be back in a bit." She said to someone outside and walked off.

In walked three people he had desperately wanted to see, dressed in white robes, Lily Potter, Hermione Granger, and Luna Lovegood. Harry stared blankly as he stepped forward; the younger women darted forward and wrapped their arms around him.

Lily allowed a few minutes for the youngsters to comfort each other, watching her son cry with his soul mates.

Hermione was the first to speak coherently, "Harry, I'm s-sorry," she sobbed, "I just felt so lost a-a-and alone when you were gone, I don't know w-why I did it," she continued, "I never thought of suicide before, I felt horrible, but I didn't want to leave you like that."

"No," Harry said, "I let the both of you down," he shook his head, looking to Hermione, "if I'd have gotten my bloody courage together and asked you first, it wouldn't have happened," he faced Luna, "I should have kept a closer eye on you when the suspended students got back, I should have known they would try to get back at you."

"No, Harry, it is not your fault," Luna stated calmly, "Marietta chose a very non-Ravenclaw path by being petty and not learning from her mistakes. My death was not your fault, it was an act of stupidity."

"It appears it neither was any of your faults," Morana said as she entered the room with a couple of folders in her arms. She sat at her desk and opened a folder and read, "Hermione Jean Granger, born September 19, 1979, died February 24, 1995. Direct cause of death, overdose of E-Z-Doze brand sleep aids, indirect cause of death, a compulsion charm placed by one Vladislav Zhivkov on December 30th, 1994 at 3:47 A.M. in the Hospital wing of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Who is he?" Harry growled, wanting revenge at finding someone had actually murdered Hermione, HIS HERMIONE!

Morana flipped a few pages, "A Durmstrang student, I would guess he wanted revenge for your duel with Viktor Krum. Normally the charm wouldn't have been enough, but she was in a vulnerable state after the attack, and it eventually took effect." She paused for a moment, "We don't need to go over the known details of Ms. Lovegood's demise, but from what I could find, neither of you were supposed to die, apparently there was a major slip-up in the graveling department."

"Graveling?" Hermione asked.

"Agents of death, they're little gremlin things that usually handle some 'accidental' deaths in some worlds. They screwed up, your death should have caused a short rewind like Harry went through a few times, and Luna's death should have too. Your deaths led to Harry's, making it my business now." She worked on her computer for a moment before another tone sounded from it, she stood, "I need to make a trip to legal. I'll be a little while, so you guys can talk," she looked at Harry, "You seem to have another visitor, they'll be here shortly," she said as she left the room.

The group was silent for a moment before Lily stepped towards her son, "Harry…I-" she was cut off when he wrapped his arms around her, crushing the wind out of her.

"Hi, mum," Harry whispered, holding the hug for a bit before pulling back a bit, "where's dad?"

Lily smiled sadly, "they only let the three of us come, but he wanted me to tell you he is proud of you, and," she let go and put her hands on her hips, deepening her voice, "I knew any son of mine would be a ladies' man, but two soul mates was a surprise even to me," she softened her posture, "Harry, we're both sorry we couldn't be there for you."

"It's okay, mum, it wasn't your fault."

"No, Harry, I always had a bad feeling about Peter, but he was an old friend of your father's and Sirius, and they thought they could trust him, I thought either I or your father should have been the keeper, but he reasoned that then the only way we could tell others would be to leave the safety, and we wouldn't have much help or people to bring supplies."

"Mum, it's alright," Harry was cut off by a knock at the door, and in walked Rube with his latest visitor in death, it was someone he had never really seen, he always saw through her, "Myrtle?"

Said girl was still dressed in the traditional Ravenclaw school robes she had died in, and spent 50 years of death wearing. The young former ghost ran up and for the first time, hugged him, with strength belying her size, "Harry," was all she said.

After a moment, Harry had to ask, "What are you doing here?"

Her expression fell a little, "You're here, I thought you wouldn't take that offer I made you two years ago, and, well, in fifty years, you and Luna are the only ones who were ever nice to me, and if the both of you were going to come here, and I couldn't haunt Olive Hornby anymore, so I…I just really didn't have any reason to stay as a ghost, so I moved on."

"Well, you won't be here too long," Morana said as she re-entered, followed by a young pale, blonde girl in a red sundress and something that looked like a demonic house-elf, with spines coming out of its head and back and a set of shark-like teeth. The death worker sat at her desk, "Harry, this," she motioned to the girl, "is Ceri, a senior member of the Office of Bonds, and the gremlin here is the head of the Graveling Department, whose name I can't pronounce," the little creature growled at her, "Shut it, you little turd, this crap is your departments fault anyways." She took a calming breath, "Harry, I checked with management and legal and, since this timeline and the inaction of certain creatures basically set you up to die early, we will, with your consent, be able to re-activate the contract you signed last time."

"Excuse me, ma'am," Hermione interrupted, "What do you mean he was set up to die early?"

"I can explain that," Ceri said, "My department handles the bonds mortals forge, good and bad. While Dumbledore may have used a memory charm on Harry's memories of his past life, his subconscious was still pushing him towards doing things differently than he originally had, which is why he met Luna sooner than he had in that life. Had he lived, the upcoming war might have been bad, but it probably wouldn't have been as bad as the original, with help from the two of you and without the Weasley boy slowing him down. The three of you had the beginnings of a very strong bond, but it was still in its infancy, it probably would have been finished and at full strength by the end of your education. However, because it was still in its infancy, the three of you had a bit more of a dependence on each other, thus the moment of weakness Hermione showed when she gave into the Compulsion Charm. Such magic needs a certain clarity and strength of mind that the boy normally wouldn't have, and, had the gravelings done their job, there would have been some distraction at the right time and the charm would have failed, but that fell through." The graveling growled, but looked somewhat sullen, "That started the domino effect, her moment of weakness caused Hermione's death. That weakened both Harry and Luna, Harry, however, felt it more because, as far as I can tell, he had never lost someone he loved so much," Harry was about to object, but she silenced him, "Your parents don't count, yes they loved you, but you were too young to realize the gravity of it. Luna had already lost a mother, so she could make it through a bit better, and had she lived, the two of you would have probably been able to support each other, the loss of your third would have stuck with you the rest of you lives, but you would have had each other to turn to."

"However," she continued, "the loss of Hermione still affected Luna, and weakened her, and through a combination of that and plain bad luck, she wasn't able to throw off the body bind. With both soul mates dead, Harry had all support cut out from under him, it was only a matter of time before he found a way to join them, and I doubt he would have made it through the summer with his family."

"So," Morana picked up, "Because of this whole cluster-fuck your case has become, Harry, the higher ups are willing to give you this last chance and re-activate the contract."

"You keep mentioning a war."

Morana nodded, "Tom Riddle will get his body back sooner or later, and then the war will start, the first time a lot of lives were lost before he killed Harry and we first enacted this contract, even with the memory charm, the body count could have been significantly less in this run, and if you try again it might be even less." She looked him over for a moment, "I don't want to seem like I'm trying to guilt you into it, but you don't have to go back, if you don't, it will turn out to be a rather high body count, but eventually, as all tyrants do, Tom's regime will fall, but that would be decades away."

"Why," Harry asked, "Why does it have to be me?"

"Because of Fate," Morana answered, "She's a stubborn bitch, nobody else but you will get her support, which means anyone else would be a lot harder pressed to succeed, and whether that person would be better or worse is unknown."

Harry's shoulders slumped, part of him wanted to just leave the wizarding world to its fate and spend eternity with Luna, Hermione and his family, but another part of him worried about the friends he still had on earth, and the innocent muggles who would eventually be dragged into the war. He felt a hand on each shoulder from Luna and Hermione and sighed, "I really just want to stay with you two and my parents…"

"But your conscience wouldn't let you," Hermione finished.

"If it weren't for that nobility, I would have been stuck in that closet a lot longer." Luna said.

Harry looked at his mother, "Your father and I love you no matter the choice you make." She was silent for a moment, "Although, this could be a chance for me to have grandchildren."

The three teens blushed as Ceri giggled at this, but Myrtle seemed oddly silent.

"So," Harry sighed, "I guess I'll have to go through First year again"

"Not for a while," Morana said, "The contract didn't say it would send you to your first year of Hogwarts, it said you would travel six years to the past. From this date, you'll end up around the 24th of June, 1989, give or take."

"Give or take?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Temporal Displacement isn't exact, but you should be within about three or four months of the target."

"Harry," he looked to Luna, who was tearing up, and could only say two words, "My Mum."

Harry understood, he could save her mother, now that he thought of it; he could do more than fight Voldemort.

As if reading his mind, Morana added, "You're going to be changing things anyways." She placed a paper and a pen on her desk, "Just sign if you want, your memories will be restored and you'll be sent back."

Harry nodded and stepped forward.

"Harry, wait," Harry turned to Myrtle, and as he did, she sprung on him, kissing him full on the lips. Once she pulled back there was a stunned silence, once she composed herself, she looked him in the eye, "I…I have had feelings for you since you beat that snake, Harry. These past few weeks have been horrible for me, to see you so sad and heartbroken, but I couldn't hug you like Hermione, or give you a shoulder to cry on like Luna, and even if you started you life over, you wouldn't be able to save me. I…I just wanted that one kiss, even if I won't remember it."

Harry nodded, and she gave him a quick hug.

"Harry," Lily said, "Would you do something for me."

"Of course, mum." Harry agreed.

Lily hesitated for a moment, "Tell Tutu that I still love her, if you can. I know we had problems, and you did too, and I really didn't like her husband, but…she's still my sister, and I love her."

Harry nodded and faced his soul mates, after a couple quick kisses; he was in front of the desk Morana spoke as he wrote.

"I'll be checking at times, so don't screw up this time." He heard as his vision faded.

)()()()()()()(

Harry woke in a very familiar, very cramped space with a bad headache as his mind re-assimilated the memories of his first run, The Battle at the Department of Mysteries, Sirius's death, Dumbledore's death, the Horcrux hunt, his own last death. It raised some questions, like why was Viktor so different in the second run.

Any further questions were cut short by a soft sob. By a stroke of luck, his door wasn't locked, he stepped out and noticed it was fairly early, about 5:30 in the morning according to the clock on the wall. He saw his aunt standing in front of the kitchen sink, her back was to him, but her reflection in the window was enough that he could see a definite shadowing around her right eye.

"Aunt Petunia?" he asked timidly, his eight/nine year old personality still in the driver's seat.

She straitened, but kept her back to him, "What are you doing up, boy?"

"I-I had a dream, aunt Petunia." He said, thinking on the fly, "There was a woman and she wanted me to tell you something."

"Boy, stop this foolishness-"

"I love you Tutu," Harry said, which quieted Petunia quickly; "She wanted me to say that you had problems, but she still loves you."

Petunia was silent, but tense, "Bo-Harry, what did this lady look like?"

"She had green eyes and red hair. She had white clothes too." Harry said in a childish way.

_Lily_ she thought, Tutu had been the annoying name her sister had made for her the summer they had tried ballet, and stuck with it. Petunia looked at the pan in the sink, which gave her a clear view of the black eye a drunken Vernon had given her hours before, usually he took out his frustrations on Harry, but at times he couldn't…perform, he would swing at the closest target. This wasn't the first time, but he always said it wouldn't happen again, and at that moment she realized, it would. Even if Harry was always around, there would be times when she was an easier target. Then she felt a sickening punch in her gut, she was using her sisters son as a sacrificial lamb, had things been reversed, she knew Lily wouldn't stand for such a thing. That dream could have really been her sister; Lily had said things about ghosts when they were children. Fresh tears fell from her face and she turned to her nephew.

Harry saw his aunt's bruise more clearly and the tears on her face, and despite his extra years of knowledge, his childish self acted and gave her a hug. She seemed to freeze a moment before, for the first time in any memory he had, she returned the hug. They held each other for almost ten minutes as Petunia wept.

When she pulled back, she told him to get his shoes and coat. Soon she lead him outside quietly and rushed to the street when she saw a passing police car. The officer rolled down the window and Petunia said something that changed things more than Harry expected.

"O-officer, I need to report domestic abuse."

* * *

Challenge by Reptillia28 (The following copied from Paladeus's "Deaths Pride"

**CHALLENGE:**

Challenge issued by "Reptilia28" - Originally on Portkey(dot)org verbatim:

A funny little challenge I just came up with. It's a comical twist on the time-travel category.

STORYLINE:

*Harry is killed at 17 during a fight with Voldemort. He's sent to his Death's office (explained later) and finds out that this isn't the first time that this has happened.

*Harry's Death (who can have a human name) is mad at his arrival. Apparently, people dying before their time is a black mark on the various Deaths' records, and Harry is getting perilously close to getting this particular one fired.

*When Harry asks what was supposed to have happened, Death goes off on a rant saying how he was supposed to have killed Voldemort, found his soulmate ("Some Granger girl...") and lived to be a centennial age. But since Harry keeps getting into life-threatening situations for one reason or another, he keeps dying before that happens. Harry is surprised about the soulmate part.

*Death gives Harry a paper to sign that allows him to retain his memories (the previous times, he wasn't given this option for some reason). Harry is deposited to a previous time of the writer's choosing.

*Eventually, Harry gets it right. He kills Voldemort, gets the girl, and lives to a ripe old age of whatever. And Death doesn't get fired.

REQUIREMENTS:

*Harry had to have died at least three times before this one.

*The memory keeping contract must be included.

*Death must refer to Hermione as "some Granger girl" when Harry's soulmate turns up in his rant.

*Obviously, must be H/Hr.

*Have fun.

OPTIONAL:

*Dumbledore's manipulations can be a factor in Harry's premature demises.

*Hermione may or may not be told of Harry's little "situation."

_**In the Study**_

"**I do hope you enjoyed that," Bloody says, "And for any who wonder, incase I don't get around to continuing this, my explanation for the change in Krum and Petunia is this, Time ripples. One can't expect to work their way up the time stream without making a few waves. Now I must be off to collect more from the recesses of my mind" he pulls a drawstring on his lamp, causing his chair to sink into the floor.**


	3. Halloween Harry

**You find yourself in a hallway, flooded halfway to your knees, with a strange groaning sound in the air accompanied by the drip, drip, drip of water from overhead pipes. You find a heavy metal door, and about head level on it is a slide covered window. You slide the cover off, finding bars inside the window. As you look in you see what looks like a black haired boy with his back to you. His head snaps to see you, revealing glowing, blood red eyes. The window is snapped shut.**

"**I know it's that time of the year, and All Hallows Eve is all about fear," Blood Brandy rhymes, "But an easy and painful way to die of fright, is to find yourself in my inner demons sight." He grabs an overhanging wire and gives it a pull, at the sound of a flushing, the water below you begins to swirl and pull you down. When light returns, you're back in the study, oddly dry.**

"**In the sprirt of the season, I hurried a bit to get this together in a bit of a hurry, so it's not my best, I will, however, be adding on to it a bit someday. Happy Halloween." He hands you a black folder with orange letters on the front.**

_**Halloween Harry**_

Running…

Running…

Running…

The young boy kept running, tears in his eyes.

_Why did they treat him like this? Why didn't his family love him like other did?_

Young Harry had had enough, enough of how his so called family treated him, how the neighbors and teachers and everyone else treated him with the mean things his family had said about him. He was young, but Harry knew that was not how families were supposed to treat each other, they weren't supposed to beat on a family member, they weren't supposed spread lies or drive off those who want to be friends. Tonight he had tripped and accidentally torn his cousin's Halloween costume, once he had terror filled his heart when he saw his uncle raise his hand into a fist. Harry had had enough and ran. He kept running and running so long that he didn't really notice the scenery blur or the great change in his surroundings until he finally stopped to catch his breath and he found himself in a place like he'd never been before. It was an overgrown pumpkin patch surrounded by an old metal fence, and just on the other side he could see a barren graveyard, the full moon just peeking over a hill.

Seeing he was alone, Harry did the only thing a child of his young age would think to do in such a situation. He sat on a large pumpkin and he cried. He cried because he was alone, he cried because he had nowhere to go or live, and he cried because he knew nothing else to do. Soon he felt like he had no more tears, he looked at the rising moon, he had heard of children wishing on stars, so he hoped the moon would be as good.

"I-I wish my parents were alive, no matter what they were like, I wish I had a mum and dad like everyone else," he lowered his eyes to the ground, "someone who'd love me."

Unaware he'd been heard.

She had gone out to get some peace and quiet before the festivities began, and had happened on this beautiful pumpkin patch just as the full moon rose over the hill. She hadn't expected to hear a crying child. Keeping out of sight, she found the child, a boy in clothes that seemed much too large for him. As she moved closer, she heard his quiet wish, and her heart nearly broke in two. Her father had never really been anywhere near being loving father of the year, but he was there for her, especially when she was young and learning, before she became 'so damned rebellious' as he might put it. When she heard the whispered end of his wish, she couldn't hold back. She quietly crept up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. She felt him tense, so she turned him around and hugged the little boy.

Harry was caught off guard. He could never really remember anyone hugging him, not family or friends, let alone a stranger. But he let her, he wasn't sure why but she felt…safe. She held him tight and he hugged back.

"It's alright, it'll be alright," She said as she rubbed his back. Harry pulled back to see this lady, she must have been pale and dressed for Halloween, because her skin seemed to be a light blue and covered in stitches. Her dress was simple in design, but made from random samples of different fabrics of different sizes. And her eyes, they were large for her head, wide and expressive. In contrast, her mouth seemed small, but was also made to look bigger by a trail of stitches extending from each side. Her red hair didn't seem entirely like hair, it almost seemed like fine string. All in all, Harry could tell she must have put a lot of work into her costume.

"What's your name?" She asked softly.

"H-Harry, ma'am, Harry Potter," Harry said shakily.

"Harry, my name is Sally," the woman said, "I heard what you wished. I know it might seem sudden, but if you'd like, I can give you somewhere to stay, at least for a while. You may find our home and town to be…odd, but if you'd still like to stay, and if it's okay with my husband, I'd like you to, maybe try and become a part of our family."

Harry was…cautiously optimistic, "R-really?"

Sally smiled, her stitches making seem ear to ear, "Yes, if you'd like." She rose and led Harry towards the graveyard.

"Where are we going?"

Sally smiled again as they came to a large, ornately decorated pedestal with an angel statue on it. "Tell me, Harry, do you believe in magic?" She asked as she reached towards the pedestal. A door opened and she carefully stepped in, bidding Harry to follow. Harry wasn't sure about this, but something inside told him this is something he should do. He followed Sally through the door and down the stairs. They continued for a few moments, before Harry realized he had somehow switched from going down to going up without noticing, looking back, the stairs only seemed to go down from where he was, and when he faced forward again he found they were at another door. As he stepped out, he found they were in another graveyard and the moon seemed bigger that it should have been, much bigger. The trees were mostly bare and a nearby hill, instead of going up to a peak, spiraled to one side at the top.

"Let's go, Harry," Sally called as she lead him away, "if we hurry, we can catch my husband before the festivities begin." She led Harry down a path past numbers of small headstones and markers to a large, creaking set of metal gates. She lead him along past groups of people, all in really good costumes, a creepy clown who, although he was almost as big as uncle Vernon, was somehow balancing himself on a tiny unicycle, a werewolf, an odd man whose hat was easily as tall as he was. Even the kids had incredible costumes, like a zombie and a mummy, each with only one visible eye. Soon, after Sally had led him past a number of unbelievable costumes, Harry was looking up at an oddly tall house at the top of a hill. Sally pulled out a key and opened the door, leading Harry into a sitting room and showing him to a chair before moving into the next room.

"Sally, I've been looking for you," a loud, jovial voice came from the room, "Tell me, does this look alright? I keep having the strangest feeling there's something missing, something I'm forgetting." The voice trailed off near the end."

"You have the wrong cufflinks on, Jack," Sally answered, "Jack, there's something I need to talk with you about." Their voices lowered considerably, so Harry could only hear mumbles through the door. Soon, he heard light but sharp footsteps approach.

"Well then, let me see the boy," Jack actually sounded happy when calling him boy, unlike Vernon had. The door flew wide open, and so did Harry's eyes, as Jack entered the room, "Ah, you must be Harry; it is just delightful to meet you."

Harry stared wide eyed for a few seconds before he and his chair fell back in a dead faint.

**Flash Forward**

Minerva McGonagall looked over the first years preparing to be sorted, but one student stood out, not because of odd clothes or hair or actions, but because of his absence. After many unanswered letters, Hagrid had been sent at the Headmasters insistence to see the boy. The giant of a man had returned with the news that Harry hadn't been there in years. Minerva took absolutely no happiness in her 'I told you so' to the Headmaster. Neither hide nor hair of the boy could be found, leaving this year's class one student poorer. With a heavy heart, she called for silence and unrolled the class list when an odd sound filled the now silent Great Hall.

Sleigh bells.

And students looking up could see the enchanted ceiling had taken on a snowy look.

"HO HO HO!" A sound came from outside, before the hall doors burst open once again, "Ho-Ho-Ho-Hoo!" Through the door flew a figure easily recognized by, at the very least, every muggle-born in the room, a heavy set man in a red suit with white trim, riding in a flying sleigh pulled by eight reindeer, that soon hovered over the teachers table. "Early Delivery!" Santa called out as a large, three foot tall package dropped in front of the sorting hat and it's stool. It was a stereotypical looking present, but with black ribbon and ash-grey paper.

Everyone in attendance stared at the box for a moment, unsure of what to do, when McGonagall pulled on the ribbon, the package quickly coming undone, inside was an equally large black box with orange pumpkin designs and a crank on the side. The crank began to turn itself, playing a brocken form of 'Pop Goes The Weasel', and at the end the top popped open and…nothing. Minerva looked quietly for a moment before gingerly taking a step forward. Once she had, the top erupted in flames, eliciting screams from the students. As professors each drew their wand to douse the flames, a black figure leapt from the box, doing flips in the air before landing in front of the new first years with a loud, booming 'BOO!', getting loud screams from all of the students, even causing a few to wet themselves.

The figure stood there menacingly for a moment before he broke into loud jovial laughter and turned to McGonagall, revealing it was a young man, maybe a bit taller than normal, but no older than the one he had just scared the daylights out of. He was dressed in an ash-grey, pinstriped suit. His skin was a little pale, his hair black as night, the bangs almost reaching his slightly sunken green eyes.

_Green eyes and black hair,_ Something clicked in Minerva's mind. _It can't be._

"Thank you for the ride, Uncle Nicholas," He called to the red figure, who let out his loud laughter and left. The boy then moved towards her with surprising speed and grace, sliding the last couple feet until he stood right in front of her. He reached into his breast pocket, "Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall," he bowed and pulled out a slightly crumpled Hogwarts Acceptance Letter, "Harry Skelington, formerly Potter, at your service."


	4. Gryffindor at the Griffin's

**You find yourself seated on a fluffy couch in front of a television when, with a crash, you see a flash of red and yellow break in through a window. A ball of fighting human and animal (at least, the feathers make you think it's an animal) rolls through the room and into another. You hear the continuing sounds of a fight, breaking wood, shattering glass, until you hear the clang of a metal pan end the battle. Blood Brandy walks into the room, panting and holding a crumpled piece of paper.**

"**Sorry about that," he says as he sits next to you, "Some of my…inner psyches have a somewhat violent sense of humor." He lies back for a moment before continuing, pulling a binder out of his robe, "There's a little story to this, er, story. I originally put the first chunk up to the first break on the Fanfiction Forums where a person going by Crazyfoxdemon said it sounded like a bad idea, whereas I thought it seemed like a good chance at a crackfic. But I stopped myself. Then I turned to myself and asked, "Do you think we can at least make this a halfway serious story?" to which myself answered, "Probably not, but let's take a swing at it anyways." And I replied, "Yeah, what the worst that could happen?"." Blood grabs a remote and pushes a button, causing the couch to roll back and drop you into the darkness.**

**When your vision clears, you find yourself in the study again.**

"**And with that, this story was born…"**

_**Gryffindor at the Griffin's**_

**Category: Harry Potter/Family Guy Crossover**

**Genre: Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Comedy (Possibly Romance)**

**Rating: T (For violence, language and possible mature situations**

**Main Characters: Harry P. & Meg G.**

**Chapter One**

"I don't believe it," Harry said, staring at the recently delivered letter.

"What's wrong Harry?" Hermione asked, as Ron tried to swallow his mouthful of breakfast to ask the same question himself.

"There was an accident. Apparently, Dudley got in trouble with the police and got into a high speed chase. He was caught, but he crashed through the garage and into the back yard and mowed over Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, as well as Aunt Marge, who was visiting. Dudley's in juvenile detention and the adults are in the hospital, the letter says it'll be a year at best before Petunia is out, and longer for Vernon and Marge."

"That's horrible!" Hermione said.

"That's great, Harry," Ron said, his mouth finally empty enough to talk, "You can come stay at the Burrow."

Harry shook his head, "They're sending me to a relative of Vernon's. Apparently, Vernon's closest relation after Marge is a distant uncle named Mickey McFinnigan, but he's the town drunk and not fit as a guardian, so they're sending me to live with his son and his family in the states over the summer, at a town in Rhode Island."

888888888888

"31 Spooner Street," Harry read as the cab he'd taken drove away. He made his way up the sidewalk, pulling his trunk behind him and Hedwig perched on his shoulder, her cage stowed away. Harry stood at the door for a moment as to brace himself. These were Vernon's relatives, however distant, so he prepared for the worst and knocked on the door. A few moments after, a large, blonde boy, a couple years older than Harry, answered.

They stared a moment before Harry spoke, "Hello, is this the Griffins house?"

The large boy blinked dimly between Harry and Hedwig a couple times before turning back, "Mom! There's a boy with an owl at the door!"

A red haired woman came to the door, "Oh, you must be Harry. My name's Lois, I'm Peter's wife. Come in, come in, meet the family." She pulled him into the living room, Chris had sat on one end of a couch in front of the telly, a large, obese man on the other end, a baby with a teddy bear nearby with a few toys, a teenage girl in a pink shirt and hat on the floor in front of the couch, turned to him from the television, and, what surprised Harry the most, a white dog sitting on a chair reading the paper.

"You met Chris, our son, this is Meg, our oldest, Stewie, our baby boy, our dog, Brian, and my husband Peter," Lois turned to her family, "Kids, this Harry Potter, a distant relative of your father's. He'll be staying with us for the summer."

"Hey," Meg greeted.

"Hello," Chris added.

Stewie walked up to him, his eyes seeming to judge him for a moment before he spoke, "I smell death on you."

Harry's surprise at such a young baby talking so well was washed away when the dog stepped up, standing on two legs, "Nice to meet you, Harry. Hope you have a good stay here, and you can ask me if you need any help." He said as he held out a paw, but Harry was just staring, "Is something wrong?"

Harry shook his head, "Sorry, it's just I've seen a person who can turn into a dog, I've seen a giant, three headed dog, but I've never seen a talking dog before," Harry was surprised at himself that he was just mentioning Sirius and Fluffy to strangers, but even more so that nobody questioned him as he gingerly shook hands, "Sorry, just a little caught off guard."

"It's alright," Brian said.

"Hey, Harry," Peter finally spoke, "What's with the big pigeon?"

Hedwig narrowed her eyes as Harry explained, "Hedwig is my owl, not a pigeon, and she is smart enough to know you're insulting her."

"Sorry, Harry," Lois said, before elbowing her husband, whispering, "Peter, apologize."

Peter just stared Hedwig in the eye before she barked, "Prick."

"HEY! What did you call me?"

"Prick!"

"Why I otta-" Peter raised his fists, only for the owl to zoom in, repeatedly pecking and clawing his head, "OW, AH, DAMN IT, I GIVE, I GIVE, I'M SORRY, UNCLE!" Hedwig left the man, returning to Harry's shoulder, closing her eyes and turning her head away.

"Prick."

"Sorry," Harry said, "She's rather proud and doesn't like being insulted."

"Smart owl," Meg commented.

"She is, she even takes mail to my friends during summer holidays, usually, but I don't think she'll be doing that this summer, not across the Atlantic." Harry said, reaching and scratching Hedwig's plumage. "So, um, where will I be staying?"

"You can use Meg's room," Peter said, "she's never here anyways"

"I'm right here, fatass!" Meg shouted.

"Oh, hey Meg, when did you get here?" Peter said, surprised, "Harry here will be sharing your room for a while."

"What about that guest room?"

"What guest room?"

"The one Uncle Patrick stayed in," Meg said, only to be answered by a clueless expression that clearly said 'who?', "Mom's crazy brother, 'The Fat Guy Strangler'," Clueless, "The room where that half-dead fat guy ate the dead fat guy."

"You mean my rec. room?"

"Rec. Room? What rec…" Meg just growled then sighed in defeat, "C'mon, Harry, I'll show you _our_ room."

Harry nodded silently and followed, pulling his trunk behind. As he disappeared up the stairs, Hedwig swiveled her head around once again, aimed at Peter with a parting word.

"Prick!"

888888888888

As Harry Finished setting Hedwig's perch next to a window, Meg came into the room carrying a folded cot she'd gotten from the attic. She unfolded it for him before sitting silently on her bed, her back to Harry as she stared out the window and he set up his trunk, Hedwig soon fell asleep on her perch. Once he was set up, Harry laid on his cot for a few moments before turning his head to see Meg was still motionless and silent.

"Meg? Are you alright?" Harry asked, "I…I'm sorry if me being here bothers you-"

"No," Meg cut him off, not looking back, "It's not you, it's just…" She seemed to struggle for a word for a few moments, "It's…It's not you, not really, anyways."

"Not really?" Harry asked, wary of what to say. He was quiet for a moment before asking, "Would you like to talk about it? Whatever's bothering you?" Meg turned and gave him a look that she didn't quite trust him, "I know we've just met, but it seems we'll be sharing a room for the summer, and if we don't talk about it, it will fester until it turns worse than it started as. So, if we have a problem, it's best to get it out of the way."

"It's not a problem, at least not with you," Meg said, getting a look that told her he wouldn't let it go, she sighed, "It's not you exactly, it's my idiot father. No offence, but we don't know you, I don't know you, but he's willing to let a strange boy room with his only daughter. The last time we had someone we didn't really know live here, it was mom's brother Patrick."

"The Fat Guy Strangler," Harry said quietly, remembering the earlier argument.

Meg nodded, "He was in a mental hospital most of mom's life because he had some traumatic event involving him walking in on Grandma with some fat actor, and he flipped and thought all fat people were immoral. When mom found out, she had him moved in here, he snapped and started killing fat guys in the park. They ended up putting him back in the mental home."

Harry was silent for a moment; he really had no idea what to say to that, "Well, you don't really have to worry about me."

"I know, it's just…" Meg was quiet for a moment before turning around, putting her back against the wall, "You really want to hear all this?"

The way she said it made Harry a little hesitant, but something told him he should, "Yes."

"I hate my family." She said simply, stunning Harry, "My dad's a retard, literally. He thought he was such a genius when he played trivial pursuit and he remembered a fire truck was red. So what's he do? He started acting like he was so fucking smart and started watching 'smart people shows' on T.V. and repeating things even though he had no clue what the hell they meant, like he was some stupid parrot. Then he get's tested and finds out he's actually retarded, so what's he do? He uses it as an excuse to do what he wants because 'he doesn't know better'. He always gets into trouble but, somehow, he never faces any of the serious consequences he should. He causes mass destruction at least twice a month and has barely spent a total of a week in jail."

Harry was too stunned by the venom in her voice to say anything as Meg continued, caught up in her own rant, "And then there's Mom, old mommy dearest who can't even say 'I Love you' to her hospitalized daughter. She thinks I don't really notice, but I know, she's so disappointed I'm not more like she was at my age, that I'm not so pretty and popular, well it was easy for her, she had rich parents who spoiled her and probably didn't mind her getting surgery to look better, she was so popular because she slept with everything that had a heartbeat. She drinks and does drugs, but has the gall to try and lecture us on the evils of drugs and alcohol. And she reads from my private dairy to the family like it's a comedy book, and doesn't even bother to stop when I find out, the bitch."

"And then there's my little brother, Chris, who bugs me and insults me, ignores me and abandons me when it suits him, but always wants my advice when he needs help, like the idiot thinks I didn't notice what he just said about me. And Stewie, he thinks I'm as stupid as the rest of the family and I don't hear him, but I just stopped caring since all he does anymore is insult me."

Tears appeared in her eyes, either from anger or sadness, as she continued, "And none of them, nobody at all in this house or even this damn town, seems to give a damn about me. Chris once ran off to the Peace Corps in South America just because he was getting picked on for being a freshman, and when we go down there, he pisses off the natives and we have to run to the plane while dodging arrows, darts and spears. They get on the plane and take off while I catch a bunch of darts in my back and have enough poison put in me to put me out for two days, and where am I when I wake up? Still in the fucking jungle, those bastards just left me behind and I have to wait two weeks to catch a Peace Corps plane back here, and you know what dads first words are when I walk in the door, with dirty and torn clothes? 'Meg, did you get the milk?'" Meg was breaking down crying now, "Chris and Stewie get separated from a tour group in the forest, and in a few hours police, forest rangers, everyone is out looking for them. I'm gone for almost three weeks and nobody, not my family, not my friends, nobody notice I'm gone, nobody misses me. My teachers give me mediocre grades for stuff I didn't even do, even the one guy who constantly asks me out didn't notice, turns out he was hitting on a picture of me in his locker and couldn't tell the difference."

At this point, even though she felt so awful, so worthless, even though she didn't even know this guy, she couldn't stop pouring her heart out, curling up and hugging her own knees "I'm constantly the butt of everyone's joke, and nobody ever tries to help. Every time I make some headway, every time it looks like someone might start treating me better, they go back to the same old shit in a week. One time, mom developed an eating disorder and when she got liposuction she tried to tell me that eating doesn't solve problems, even though I weigh just as much as her, so what do I say? I tell her the truth." She raised her tearful, reddened eyes level with Harry's, "I say, 'I don't eat when I have problems, I cut myself, is that better mom?'" Meg sees the horror in Harry's face, but quickly continues, "And she ignores me, she just says something about Chris's hat like I never said anything, like she doesn't care if I hurt, like she doesn't care if I die."

Meg couldn't continue, she just lay into the fetal position, quietly sobbing. Harry got up and sat next to her before beginning to rub her back. He didn't really have any experience with crying girls, so when she looked up at him, and then wrapped her arms around him before crying into his chest, he just went with it and continued to rub her back.

Meg realized just how low her life had gotten. She always knew she had a piss poor life, but here was a guy a couple years younger than her, who she had literally just met, and he was treating her better than her own family had in years. Maybe it was shock or pity, but she was desperate for anything, any help or emotion from another human being.

Harry felt he had to say something, he wasn't sure why, he wasn't sure what compelled him, maybe it was having seen Cedric die or having had to fight Voldemort and seeing his parents, but he felt he needed to bare himself to someone like she had to him, that if he talked to someone, he might feel better.

Meg's sobs died down a bit and he began stroking her hair before speaking, "When my parents were married, before I was born, there was a madman named Tom Riddle, who called himself Voldemort, a leader of a group out to kill or torture those they didn't consider 'pure'. He ended up targeting me and my parents when I was born, so they took me into hiding, they were hid in such a way that only one person could tell others where they were, they placed all their trust in that one man, an old friend of my father's, and another friend of my father's pretended he knew the secret to draw attention to himself and away from the truth."

"But Peter, the one who knew the secret, was already a traitor. He told Voldemort and on Halloween, when I was almost a year and a half old, he came to our house. Dad tried to distract him, to buy time for mum and me, but he was killed. Mum tried to protect me, she tried to bargain for my life, but she was killed in front of my crib." His own tears began to form, "I sometimes still hear her in my sleep. He tried to kill me next, but it backfired and hit him instead." Meg raised herself as she listened, both of them now with their backs against the wall.

"After that night, I was sent to live with my mother's sister and her husband, who thought of my parents as freaks, and they thought I'd have to be a freak since I was my mother's child, so they thought they'd 'beat the freakishness' out of me. For almost ten years I was hated and beaten. I slept in a cupboard under the stairs and fed on scraps. I was made to do almost all the house work and hit when I didn't do it well enough. Everyone in the neighborhood was told that I was some sort of delinquent son of a couple drunks who died in a car crash and left me as a burden on my hard working and 'normal' relatives. My cousin was an ass and a bully who scared people away from being friends with me while he bullied everyone, but because his parents claimed he was such a great kid and I was a juvenile delinquent, nobody would believe Dudley Dursley would do any wrong. And god forbid I defend myself against their precious little Dudders, yes, God forbid the freak not get the beating he deserves for being a freak." Harry growled, his voice turning cold as he spoke more of his cousin, aunt and uncle.

"Then, not long before my eleventh birthday, a letter came in the mail slot for me, it was even addressed 'Mr. H. Potter, The Cupboard Under the Stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinning, Surrey'. My uncle seemed to know what it was and he burned it. That day I was moved into the smallest bedroom, the room Dudley kept all his broken toys in. The next day, another letter came, 'Mr. H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinning, Surrey', and it was destroyed too. The next day it was three, a dozen the next. Once my uncle nailed the mail slot shut, the milk man handed them to him. Then, that Sunday my uncle was smug, 'no post on Sundays.' But then dozens of the letters shot out of the chimney. My uncle gave us five minutes to pack before we left after that, but each time we stopped at a motel, there was a letter waiting for us, for me. Eventually, on the day before my birthday, my uncle rented a shaky little two room shack on a miserable rock island in the middle of a huge storm. But I still got a letter, only it was hand delivered this time."

Harry took a pause, which was noticed by Meg. This was the moment of truth, he had to decide if he would expose the magical world to a girl he had known for maybe a couple hours at most or not. Harry took a deep breath and decided, "Meg, I'll be as honest as you are with me. The rest of this will sound impossible, and I need you to keep it a secret, but it's all true." He looked her in the eye, "Can I trust you?"

Meg was silent for a moment, but nodded. She knew she was quick to latch on to people, at least people who were nice to her, but she didn't care. This boy seemed like the first person to genuinely care about her in so long. She would follow him to hell and back, she knew it wasn't really anywhere near healthy, but at the moment, she didn't give a damn.

Harry took a deep breath before he continued, "The last of the letters, addressed to 'Mr. H. Potter, The Floor, The-Hut-On-The-Rock, The Sea' was delivered at midnight on my birthday of July 31st, and it was given to me by a man almost twice the size of a normal man. A man who became one of my first real friends, and who said four words that changed my life, 'Harry-yer a wizard'. The letter that he gave me, just like the letters before, were invitations to go to a school of magic, like my parents had before me. At first I was excited, my parents weren't the drunken lay abouts I was told, they were a well known witch and wizard, and I was going to go to the same school they had learned magic, I got Hedwig and I made some friends. But it wasn't as great as I thought it would be."

"When Voldemort tried to kill me, he used a Killing Curse, a dark and difficult spell that kills its victim instantly. It killed my dad and my mum, but my mum did something when she sacrificed herself to save me, something happened that made it so I was the only person ever to survive the Killing Curse with only a scar on my head, that and the fact Voldemort was defeated made me some kind of overnight celebrity to the magical people, so everyone would stare at me like they thought I was going to become some sort of superhero any minute, bothering me about my scar, I went from the Dursley's freaky delinquent nephew to top celebrity in a day, not exactly as fun as it sounds, especially with things that happened later."

"And things weren't exactly the greatest at Hogwarts, either. Some kids gawked at me, some hated me because their parents had been followers of Voldemort. People's opinions seemed to change about me every year and every year I had someone try to kill me. First year my defense teacher was actually possessed by Voldemort's spirit and tried to kill me twice himself and he let a troll loose in the school that almost killed my friends as well, and all of that not to mention a potions professor who seems to hate me so much he may think it a crime each time I breathe."

"Second year I had a nutter house elf _almost_ killing me to protect me, a sixty meter snake that can literally kill with a look loose in the school, a copy of Voldemort possessing my friends little sister, and a ponce of a defense teacher who tried to completely erase my memory. And add to all that, people were getting turned to stone, including one of my best friends, and people thought that just because I could speak to snakes, I must be some evil wizard in training who set loose said sixty meter snake."

"Third year I had a supposed mass murderer, who was actually my innocent godfather, who had broken out of jail and was running around. Everyone thought he was out to kill me, but he was actually after Peter the traitor who was disguised as my friend Ron's pet rat. I almost got my soul sucked out three times by these monsters the government placed at the school to 'protect' me, and that years defense teacher was a werewolf who lost control and attacked me and my friends. We had Peter captured, but he got away, and without him the Minister of Magic wouldn't believe my godfather was innocent and he had to go on the run."

"Then, this last year, everything went completely pear shaped. First there's a contest that only adult students, for us that's seventeen, are supposed to enter, and I end up forced in because the 'magical goblet of fire'," he said patronizingly, the lights beginning to flicker as his anger showed, "apparently has no way to tell a forgery from someone's real signature, then most of the school and my best friend turn on me because they thought I was some attention seeking glory hound who tricked his way in and Ron was apparently more pissed that I didn't let him in on it, never mind that this contest hadn't been held for over a hundred years for the reason that a lot of contestants ended up dead. I had to outrun a fire breathing dragon, fight off pissed merpeople, risked getting torn apart by a sphinx and had to deal with yet another defense teacher trying to kill me." Harry's rage seemed to come to a screeching halt as tears filled his eyes, "And to top it all off, I saw…I saw a friend die in front of me right before I had to watch the bastard who killed my parents rise from the dead and try to kill me again."

Harry was getting angry again, Meg could tell because the lights almost went completely out and she could hear her father complaining about the cable getting messed up.

"I barely escaped with my life and almost nobody was willing to believe the bastard was back, and they refuse to take their heads out of the sand until something bites them on the arse. I find I won't have to spend the summer with my damnable relatives, but now have to spend it with people I have no blood relation to in the first place. And I can't even keep in contact with my friends because now I'm stuck across the ocean with a family that, by your accounts, should have been split by child services as soon as mine should have. Just when I think something good might have happened for me, it all turns to SHIT!" The windows in the room loudly cracked, snapping Harry out of his rant as he saw the spider web marks appear across the panes of glass.

"Woah," Was all Meg could say as the lights went back to normal, and the sound of the television come from downstairs.

Harry looked around, seeing the damage he'd done, "Oh, hell, I'm so sorry," without thinking, he pulled his wand out of his pocket, "_Reparo,"_ only after the glass was fixed did Harry realize what he'd just done, "Oh hell." He said, looking out the window expectantly.

"Is something wrong?" Meg asked, once she had a second to get used to seeing actual magic, "The window looks fine now."

"It's not that," Harry said, looking confused, "It's just, I'd have expected an owl from the Improper Use of Magic Office by now."

Meg was confused, "A what from the who, now?"

"Um, a letter from the magical government," Harry said, a little embarrassed, "Back in Britain, we're not allowed to use magic outside of school until we're seventeen, and especially not in front of non-magical people. The warning owls are pretty quick and get to us in minutes, but it's not here."

"Well," Meg thought for a moment, "Maybe it's different here. Or, maybe, they just don't pay attention to some places. We have had some pretty weird stuff happen around here."

"What would be so bad that they would ignore magical law here?"

"Death came here." At Harry's blank stare, Meg continued, "I mean it, we actually had Death himself, bones, robe, scythe and all, stay in this house."

To that, Harry could only reply, "HOW?"

"Dad's fault," Meg shrugged, "He went to the hospital because he thought a lump on his chest might be cancer. It wasn't, but when it was time to pay the doctor, he wrote he was dead on the insurance forms to get out of paying. Death literally showed up at our door and chased dad around for a while, but ended up tripping and spraining his ankle, he had to stay here to recover. Dad eventually got himself spared." Harry stared blankly as Meg took a moment before continuing, "There was also this time Dad messed up an Indian burial ground in the back yard and disturbed some spirits, they attacked, took Stewie hostage for a while and made the house disappear until Dad put back a skull he took to use as an athletic cup."

"He…what kind of disrespectful ass takes a human skull for a cup?" Harry nearly yelled, appalled.

"Yeah, but believe it or not, it's still not the worst thing he's done," Meg said, at least a little amused that _someone_ is finally as angry at her father's stupidity and can see none of this is normal, "One time a show he liked was cancelled, so he had Chris pretend he had a lethal illness so they could get one of those 'make a wish' foundations to put it back on T.V." Harry looked even further disgusted as she continued, "When people noticed Chris didn't die, Dad just said he healed Chris. This cult started up and dad let it go to his head, claiming he was god. Things went crazy and we started getting hit with the ten plagues from the bible. Dad didn't admit he was a fake until the last plague and Chris was almost dead."

Harry stared blankly for a few moments before yelling, "What the bloody hell is wrong with this insane asylum?" He laid back again, hitting his head against the wall, "I go from a house where everyone hates me to a house full of nutters," He quickly turned to Meg, "no offence."

Meg shrugged, "None taken, I'll admit I have some problems, but that's not the worst thing I've ever been called." They were both quiet for a while, letting their minds process the new information before Meg broke the silence, "So, a wizard, huh? Like, you can just wave a hand and make stuff happen?"

Harry shook his head, "No, I mean, there are some things we can't do, even with magic. And as for hand waving, well," He thought for a moment, "there is accidental magic for kids. I mean, when a witch or wizard gets very emotional, stuff happens…"

"Like cracking windows when you get pissed?"

Harry had the decency to look embarrassed, "Yeah, sorry about that, but yeah. It usually happens when we're little, but if someone gets angry or scared enough, things can just happen. I don't know if you can learn to do it on purpose, I never really looked into it. I've just always used my wand like everyone else," He said, holding up his wand.

The brunette looked it over for a few seconds, "Could I see it?"

Harry shrugged, not seeing the harm in a muggle girl checking his wand **(A.N. Not like that, sicko)**, but he didn't expect what happened next. As soon as Meg had a good grip on the wand, a shower of pink sparks shot out of the end. Wide eyed, she looked to Harry for an explanation, only to find he was just as surprised as she was. Meg lifted the wand and gave it a flick, which seemed to cause her closet door to slam shut.

"Holy shit," Was really all she could say, "Am I supposed to be able to do that?"

"No," Harry said, still in awe, "Not at all. Muggles, er, non-magical people shouldn't be able to use a wand as anything but just another wooden stick. Meg," he said, locking eyes with her, "I think you're…a witch."

Meg's mind went blank at that. A witch? She was magical? Could she be a reason behind some of the stuff? Her father caused a lot of shit to happen, but some stuff just seemed kinda random.

Peter was fat, but he shouldn't have been heavy enough to just fall through the stairs, was that her?

Were some of her father's smaller accidents because she was magical and pissed at him?

Despite her physical injuries, from others or self inflicted, many seemed to heal quicker than they should, was that magic?

Was the ghost portal through her ass because she was, herself, magic?

Was magic why she survived all those darts in her back in the jungle?

Come to think of it, how had she become so desensitized from her father's odd adventures to not realize, stuffed animals shouldn't be able to come to life and run away or commit suicide by truck? Was that because of her too?

"Meg, MEG!" Harry shocked her out of her thoughts.

"I'm sorry, what?" Meg said, shaking out the cobwebs.

"I said it doesn't make sense," Harry repeated, "Even if it's a little different here, you should have gotten an owl, a letter from a school of magic, years ago. I know for sure there's one in Salem. Did you ever get a letter on parchment?"

"No, never, at least not that I know-" her thought stopped there and she groaned. What was the one constant screwing up her life? "Come with me." She got up and lead him down the stairs to the living room, where it was just Brian still reading the paper and Peter watching T.V. "Dad, did I ever get a letter you never gave me? Maybe when I was about eleven?"

Brian lowered his paper, _an oddly specific question._

Peter didn't even look away from the television, "Oh, yeah," he rustled a hand into the cushions and pulled out a creased, folded and slightly crumpled envelope, "I was gonna give it to ya, but Inside the Actor's Studio had F. Murray Abraham and I forgot."

Meg, with barely veiled anger, grabbed the letter and looked at the address…

_Miss Megan C. Griffin_

_31 Spooner Street_

_Quahog, RI 00093_

Breath hitched, she opened the letter and read…

**Salem Witches Institute**

_**Headmistress: Rachel Clinton**_

_To Whom It May Concern,_

_We are happy to inform you that Ms. Griffin has been accepted to the Salem Witches Institute. Enclosed within is a school supply list, our tuition rates, an approved pets list (Any animal NOT on the list must be cleared by our magical creatures professor beforehand), and a basic list of rules (The complete rule book is available for mail purchase or to borrow from the school library upon arrival). Also enclosed is a list of faculty contact numbers if you have any questions._

_Fall term begins the final week of August. You must send a letter of acceptance by the first of August or we will assume your daughter does not wish to attend. With any acceptance letter, please inform us if your daughter will require transportation to the Institute._

_Sincerely,_

_Emmaline Gale_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Meg looked over the other papers, the tuition itself wasn't really much more than her normal schooling costs and while boarding was rather expensive, they also offered something called a…Portkey? Something that would help her commutes to and from school from home, anyway.

Meg's anger began to boil up again as she felt something inside rise at her father. _I could have been with people like me! I could have had real friends! But because of this fatass, I…he…_

"Meg!" Harry said, grabbing her shoulder and startling her as the window shattered into the house.

"What the hell!" Peter yelled. Quickly looking through the broken glass, he stuck his out the hole in the wall, and yelled, "Damn you kids and your invisible bricks!"

Harry quickly led Meg back upstairs, not noticing a dog's eyes following them.

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"Meg, calm down-"

"How can I calm down, Harry? I just found out I lost so much because of my dumbass father!" Meg yelled, her eyes alight with sadness and anger, "I'm a witch who never learned magic! I could have actually made friends at that place! I…I could have found people who cared about me," she sat on her bed, expression falling.

Harry sat next to her and glanced at the perch and open window, before he put a hand on her shoulder, "Look, Hedwig is out hunting, but first thing tomorrow, we'll send her to the institute with a letter and see if there's anything you can do." Harry took a moment to consider what he said next, "And, if you're careful, I can probably teach you some spells with my wand since it seems pretty compatible with you."

"Compatible?"

Harry nodded, "As far as I know, all wands are at least a little different, different cores from different creatures, different wood types from different trees and different lengths," he pulled his out and showed it to her, "Mine is made of Holly wood, eleven inches long with a phoenix's tail feather as its core. Ollivander, the man who made it, told me that the wand chooses the witch or wizard, so it is a bit surprising that seems to work well with you." Harry was silent for a moment before he held the wand out to her, "Let's see how well it works. I want you to take the wand and say '_Lumos_'."

"_Lumos_? What kind of spell is that? I thought spells, like, rhymed and stuff." Harry just held the wand to her, so she took it and pointed away, "_Lumos._" Immediately a bright, soft light came from the tip. It was a simple spell, but it had its effect on Meg. A letter and some random sparks were nothing compared to actually purposefully casting a spell, "I…I really am a witch."

"Now say '_Nox'_."

"_Nox_," Meg repeated, the light going out as she did.

"Good, Meg," Harry praised, "I don't think it's a perfect match, but it is close enough that I can teach you some things with my wand, but you'll have to be careful, even simple spells can misfire."

"I understand," Meg said with a smile as the two of them leaned back against the wall, waiting for dinner to be announced. Meg glanced at her guest a couple times, seeing his eyes droop as jet lag and the days excitement caught up to him. She began to scoot a little closer and a little more until she leaned her head on his shoulder, with Harry a bit too tired to care. "Harry?"

"Hmm."

"You're my friend, right?" She asked, uncertainly.

Harry opened a groggy eye and sealed the change of his destiny forever, "Of course, Meg."

Meg grinned as she closed her own eyes. She didn't want to seem desperate, but she had almost no real friends, and the few she did have seemed either the fair weather type or were just her friends in school. But, she didn't know why, somehow she could tell, she could feel that Harry would be a real friend, someone she could rely on and wouldn't just judge her. She knew, once again, she might be attaching herself too quickly, but this was a boy who, in just a few hours, had literally just changed her whole course of life, and she would do anything to support him. As she drifted off, a darker, needier, more desperate part of her psyche vowed pain on anyone who tried to hurt or take her new friend away.

Far away, on a barren island, in a cold, bare cell, a dark haired woman shivered as if a person had stepped n her grave.

**888888888888**

**I figured the best character for a somewhat serious Family Guy story is Meg because, well, aside from the fact she's my favorite female character from the show (surpassed only by Ernie the Giant Chicken as overall favorite character), is she has the most serious problems and they always go unaddressed. She just seemed to fit. And I had that last bit because I know and will not deny she has some problems, and see it as a distinct possibility that she could become Harry's answer to Bellatrix.**

**And to those who ask, I just chose a middle initial for Meg at random.**

**And, as a challenge, within this is a Simpson's reference, an old Movie reference and a reference to a real event, see if you can find all three.  
**

**And as for Comedy, I have a special part for Hedwig…**

*****A Three Month Temp Job*****

"You!" Peter growled, locking eyes with the giant yellow fowl in front of him. They charged on another, but before the first punch could connect, a white blur flew in between them, separating the fighters. They both saw Hedwig land on the Griffin's mailbox as her head swiveled to face Ernie and bark and squawk at him a bit.

"What?" more barks and a 'prick', "You gotta be kidding me," a couple barks, and a wing flare.

"What the hell are you two doing," Peter asked, only to draw the owl's attention. She leapt off the mail box and went after him, "Ah, ow, damn it, ya bastard," Peter threw a couple of swings, but Hedwig dodged them. As he wasn't paying attention, Peter fell backwards, head first, into a trash can and fell on his side. Hedwig landed next to him and, with a light press of her wing, pushed him into a roll down hill before jumping back onto the mailbox with the chicken looking at her.

"So you said until September?" Ernie asked, getting a bobbing nod, "Well, the wife has been wanting a vacation," a bark and a soft screech, "Oh, yeah, her names Nicole," Ernie said, pulling out a wallet picture of his wife, "I'll introduce you if I get a chance," a cooing noise and a couple barks, "Well, thank you, I'll be sure to tell her that. You know, you just never see people like you with good manners around here anymore," bark and screech, "You have a nice day too, Miss." And so the chicken left.

Three hours later, a busted and bruised Peter walked into his living room to find his best friend watching television while his youngest son was playing with his bear. On the top of the couch, though, was an owl, who swiveled her head and gave him a glare that would make a certain monkey jealous.

"Peter, what happened to you," Brian asked, concerned.

Under the glare of the owl, Peter shivered, "I, uh, I fell?" The owl gave a slight bob, "Y-yeah, I f-fell." He then quickly ran to his room to hide under his sheets, Brian following in worry.

Stewie watched quietly, _Something is strange here, it seems the fat man, for some reason, fears that albino avian. This bears investigation._ As if she heard his thought, Hedwig turned her head even further, almost to a complete 360, to look at the baby, as if in judgment. The two locked eyes for a moment then, as if coming to an understanding, Stewie gave a slight nod and Hedwig a soft bark before snapping her head back around to the television and Stewie turning back to Rupert.

As he did, he muttered, "At least she can't be worse than that insufferable hound."

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"**Yes, Hedwig will be tormenting Peter. Why? Because he seems to always have trouble with Birds, Chris is too easy a target, Brian isn't as funny a target, and Stewie and Lois would be more difficult."**

**Brandy seems about to continue when a knock comes from the door. When he answers, a yellow feathered hand grabs his collar.**

"**Seems I Have to go," He says, resisting the hand's pull, "Let me know what you think. Laters." He is pulled out of the study as the door slams behind him.**


End file.
